Blacklight
by hotmess4evr330
Summary: Tricia is a bartender/tattoo artist hoping to escape her life in LA but ends up getting in deep with SAMCRO. Happy/OC. Takes place after Season 3. I hate writing summaries so there is my attempt. Up for adoption. I don't even remembering writing this story. So if you want it, send me a message and it's yours to re-vamp. Officially adopted by thelittleladybug53 :)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, so this is only my second fanfic so please don't judge, also it's my first Sons of Anarchy fanfiction. If I get any biker terminology wrong please don't chew me out, I'm not that huge into cars and/or motorcycles I'm just a writer and a huge fan of the show craving some serious fictional motorcycle gang action/romance. Thanks**

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><p><span>Chapter One<span>

Tricia Markowitz stood behind the counter of the bar, nodding her head along to the beat of the music pulsating through the bar. Her coworker, Nikki, the picture of professionalism for someone who worked in a bar, shook her head, rolling her eyes in annoyance and pouring some vodka into a glass of coke before pushing past Tricia into the back. Tricia ignored her bad attitude, completely absorbed in listening to the music pounding through the speakers. Her attention was diverted as a handsome, muscular guy sat down in front her with a cocky smile on his chiseled face. Resisting the urge to shake her head, Tricia turned to the guy with forced politeness. "You want something?" She asked, her voice polite while her words were anything but.

The man's eyes roved up and down her body, blatantly checking her out. "Yea, I _definitely_ see something I want." He commented while Tricia raised her eyebrows.

"To drink," she clarified.

"Oh," the man said with a smile, nodding his head. "To drink." He said as if he had no idea what to order at a bar. "Right, I'll have a beer on tap. Thanks doll." The man said while Tricia's jaw tightened at his words. She hated guys like him, who thought that just because that had a drool worthy body and oozed charm that they were irresistible and could do, say, or get whatever they wanted, like the guy sitting in front of her, watching her like a predator watching its prey. "My name's Ryan, by the way. Ryan Jameson." He told her, the cocky smile not leaving his face while Tricia dropped the mug of beer down in front of him with a tense smile.

"I didn't ask." Tricia responded with disinterest, hoping that Ryan Jameson would take the hint and fuck off.

"What's your name?" Ryan asked, sipping the beer.

"Kiss my ass." Tricia said offhandedly, picking up a rag from under the bar to wipe down the what little of the busy counter she could, to help out the janitor so he wouldn't have a huge sticky mess to clean.

"Well, Kiss My Ass, would it be too forward of me to ask what time you get off work?" Ryan inquired with a charming smile.

"It was too forward of you to ask my name." Tricia responded curtly, glaring at him while three of what appeared to be his friends, whooped loudly and came over to the bar to sit beside him. Sighing at the sight of the three, obviously drunk frat boy looking guys, Tricia moved over towards them, waiting for an order. They had the same gorgeous golden boy looks and defined muscles as Ryan as well as the same carefree attitude and arrogance of someone who knows how good they look and are used to it getting them whatever they wanted. However, Tricia wasn't the kind of girl that they were used to. She wasn't a naïve sorority chick who'd put out for any pretty boy who asked simply because of his stunning looks and Daddy's money. Tricia had seen more in her short twenty-four years than these boys their future blonde bimbo society wives would in their whole lives. These boys _and _their looks did absolutely nothing for her.

"Hey, baby, three large buds." One of the guys said before turning back to Ryan. Rolling her eyes, Tricia grabbed the Buds and opened them before dropping them onto the bar in front of the three boys who obviously didn't need anymore alcohol in their systems. "Thanks sugar," the man said with a wink while she resisted the urge to gag.

"Fine piece of ass. You tryin' to tap that bitch, Ry?" Another guy asked as if Tricia wasn't standing right there at the bar.

"I don't _try_, Luke. I _do_." Ryan responded, making the other guys laugh.

"Not funny," Tricia murmured under her breathe.

"Yeah, we all know Ryan'll get lucky tonight. No pussy can resist him." The third guy said with a grin.

"Please, anyone can land a girl like her." Luke said to his friends while Tricia's hands curled into fists, but she didn't say anything, trying to hold her temper together.

"Nah, _you_ couldn't Luke. Even a prostitute would refuse to have sex with you. Repulsive little pussy!" The first guy laughed while Luke just rolled his eyes and looked to Tricia.

"Yo! Honey! C'mere a second, baby." Luke called while the other guys laughed, shaking their heads. Tricia squared her shoulders and walked towards them, crossing her arms across her chest. "You feel like fuckin' a real man tonight?"

Tricia let a small smile play over her lips. "Sure, tell me when you find one."

His boys oohed at him while Luke just narrowed his eyes at Tricia. "You ain't ever had a real man until you've had me."

"Big talk. Overcompensating for something?" Tricia asked innocently.

"Listen here, bitch, don't insult me because you're a lousy lay. I'll show you the ropes if you want." Luke commented while his drunk buddies sniggered.

"Do you even know what I real orgasm sounds like? 'cause I can bet that the girls you fuck don't ever leave satisfied. How much you want to bet that your buddies satisfy them after your abysmal attempt at sex." Tricia snapped going to grab one of his friend's empty bottles.

Luke grasped her wrist just as Nikki and the new bouncer on shift, Julian, walked into the room. They froze, waiting and watching as Tricia looked at Luke with contempt. "Shut the fuck up, bitch. I think you need a man to show you your place."

"Oh yeah? And where would that be?" Tricia spat at him while his friend's faces began to sober up.

"Under a man." Luke spat at her, his hold on her wrist tightening.

Tricia narrowed her eyes at him until they were slits. "You sexist bastard. You're not even a real man." She hissed at him and his face became red while fury lit his eyes. Tricia could feel that something was about to go down. She steeled herself while Julian hollered at the man and Nikki even crossed her arms and glared.

"Hey man, tone it down. Don't want to do something that you're gonna regret." Ryan said, intercepting his friend and prying his hand off of Tricia's wrist. Taking it back, she rubbed the bruised wrist and watched impassively as Ryan pushed Luke to his other two friends who'd stood up and sobered up, obviously sensing the seriousness of the situation. She doubted this was the first time Luke had pulled something like this. "You're drunk. Go home and walk away." Ryan said while Luke gave one last glare to Tricia before stumbling out of the bar, his two friends supporting him. Luke looked back at me just as Julian and Nikki flanked me.

"You okay?" Julian asked worriedly. Julian Thomas was huge and burly with a buzz cut and a love of tight, fitted shirts. However, the boy was only nineteen, almost twenty, and had just returned home from the military. He was also like the little brother Tricia had always wanted, protective but also very perceptive, not interfering in anyone's business unless absolutely necessary.

"I'm fine Jules." Tricia said to him casually, barely shaken up by the meeting. It wasn't the first time a customer—let alone a person in general—had gotten rough with her, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She'd had worse than what that drunk, sexist asshole had thrown at her. Just ask her parents.

"Give me his name and I'll put him on the list." Julian ordered Tricia who sighed. He was more than just protective of Tricia alone, but of everyone who worked in the club. After all, everyone there was like a giant family. They'd all grown up together and had family who'd grown up together since they'd all been born and raised in Charming, California. A small town where most people knew each other, or, at least, had heard of each other. Tricia was the outsider, a new resident from Los Angeles with a tough as nails attitude and sarcasm like you wouldn't believe.

"Luke Carmichael." Ryan told Julian. "Hey look," he addressed the three of them, Tricia in particular. "I'm sorry about Luke, he just gets a little rowdy when he gets drunk." Ryan informed them.

"Just keep him out of here." Julian responded sharply. "I don't want anyone getting hurt." He said before walking away.

"I agree with Julian. I don't want to see that no good frat boy around here again." Nikki hissed at Ryan before moving to the other side of the bar.

Tricia rolled her eyes. "Don't sweat it." She said to Ryan. "I've had worse that a drunk frat boy grabbing my wrist and telling me that I'm meant to be submissive. There've definitely been worse drunks come through here." She said to Ryan.

"Anyway, are you sure that you don't want to…talk to me after you get off?" Ryan asked with a charming smile.

Tricia glanced at the clock and grinned, pulling off her apron. "Sure." She said with a seductive smile. "Let's _talk_."

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><p><strong>Sorry that Happy wasn't in the first chapter but I really just wanted to show you Trisha without Happy involved because she is kind of a different person with Happy than she will be with most guys. After all, I love Happy but he's pretty damn scary, right? Anyway, I swear he'll be in the next chapter. Anyway, thanks for reading.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, so here's chapter 2 where you get a Tricia's not so graceful intro to SAMCRO. I'm sorry, but I couldn't get Happy into this chapter but I promise promise promise he'll be in the next one. Also, if you know of any car problems that would make a car stop and start smoking please tell me. I know zip about cars.**

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><p><span>Chapter Two<span>

The next morning, Tricia woke up with a pounding in her head and a naked, muscular man sprawled out next to her in bed. "Shit," she mumbled, hopping out of the bed and over to the shower. Quickly, she showered and dressed, brushing her long chestnut locks into smooth waves as opposed to the angry mass of knots that they'd been before. Throwing a black fedora onto her head, she sauntered to the kitchen to where he coffee pot had filled itself as usual, since it was on a daily timer. Grinning, she sipped the liquid before walking into her room where Ryan still laid across her before snoring lightly and sleeping deeply and peacefully. "Okay, up, out, you've gotta go." Tricia said loudly, yanking the curtains open so that the sunlight spilled onto Ryan's face. He groaned while she hit him on the back. "Come on, up and out." Tricia said, reaching down and tossing his clothes at him as he slowly came awake.

"What the hell?" Ryan muttered, clutching his head and looking around the room before settling on Tricia who kept tossing clothes at him. "Tricia?" He inquired while she rolled her eyes and set her coffee down, turning to look around the room. Seeing no signs of his presence except for his body, she nodded, satisfied and turned back to look expectantly at Ryan, waiting for him to get the hint. "Jesus Christ, Tricia, it's like ten in the morning."

Tricia rolled her eyes. "Duh, some of us have _jobs_, frat boy. Like me. You've gotta go. Now. Before my roommates wake up and see you. They're seriously getting tired of me bringing guys back to the house. Though, I personally think that they're only upset because neither of them have gotten screwed lately." Tricia shrugged. "C'est lavie." She told him with a small smile on her face, "Now, get dressed and get out." She said to Ryan who raised his eyebrows but complied, pulling on his clothes. She pushed him out of her bedroom, handing him a cup of coffee in a to go cup that they kept handy before pushing him into the hallway of her building.

Ryan stopped just outside the door, turning to face her. "So, can I see you again?" Ryan inquired with a small smile.

"I don't think so." Tricia shook her head, slamming the door in his face and turning around with a sigh of relief just as one of her roommates entered the room.

"Hey!" Rhiannon said lightly walking into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator to grab a yogurt. Seeing Tricia at the door, her brows came together in confusion. "Someone at the door?" Tricia glanced back in the door in surprise before shaking her head and dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. Rhiannon Ketchiri was a half-Irish, half-Swedish beauty with parents straight off of the boat. She was also everything that Tricia wasn't in both look and personality. Rhiannon was strawberry blonde while Tricia had burnt chestnut hair, Rhiannon was pale while Tricia was tan, willowy as opposed to curvy. Similarly, Rhiannon had a kind, light manner that made people want to befriend her while Tricia had a temperment and mouth that alienated nearly everyone that she met. "How was your night?" Rhiannon inquired.

Tricia looked at her sharply but calmed down when she saw that it was an innocent question about her night bartending. Tricia shrugged. "Uneventful."

"Morning bitches!" Their third roommate, Molly, called from down the hall. She skipped into the kitchen dressed for work in panty hose, a pencil skirt, and a chiffon top while her nest of copper-colored curls bounced around on her head. "How has everyone's morning been?"

"Fine," Tricia and Rhiannon answered together while Molly grinned. "Good." A knock came from the door, "I'll get it!" Molly said, hurrying over to the door while Tricia just rolled her eyes, dipping her finger in Rhiannon's cherry yogurt and licking it off her finger while Rhiannon just rolled her eyes. "Who are you?" Molly asked while Tricia's eyes widened and she cursed, making Rhiannon look at her in confusion. "What?" Molly shrieked, making Tricia tense. "Patricia Hilary Berkowitz! Why the _hell_ is there a man at the door asking if you have his _boxers_ in your _room_?" Molly shrieked, looking like steam was about to come out of her ears.

Tricia blinked. "Um…I have no idea?" She tried, but seeing Molly's face, she knew that she couldn't successfully play that card. "Gee, look at the time, I gotta to go, see you this afternoon, bye!" Tricia called, grabbing a banana and her purse, pushing past Molly and Ryan and darting out the door.

"We will be discussing this later Patricia!" Molly screamed behind Tricia.

"Bye!" Tricia called back, hopping into her ancient Cadillac and driving down the road, cursing the fact that she'd forgotten to check the bathroom for clothes. "Whoops," she muttered.

~O~O~O~

Charming Ink was a tiny little tattoo shop stuffed down a tiny side street off of the main road. Tricia figured that the locals were trying to down play any negative images of the little town, which wasn't easy since a motorcycle club called the Sons of Anarchy roamed the streets, acting like they owned the town, which Rodney, Tricia's co-worker, swore vehemently that they did. Still, the little tat shop was one of the favorites that she'd worked in. She'd learned how to tattoo at fourteen, right around the time she'd gotten her first tattoo from her friend/lover, Mick, a heavily tattooed business owner who owned both a piercing/tattooing place and had a lucrative back alley drug dealing business as well. Between tattooing and designing tats, Tricia had made enough money by sixteen to escape her shitty ass family and get her own place.

"I need someone to go down to the storage place and grab some extra ink." Tricia's boss and the store owner, J.D., said to her and Rodney as he walked out of his office.

"Not I!" Tricia and Rodney said at the same time.

J.D. rolled his eyes and looked between the two. "Fresh meat, you can go grab it."

"What is this? High school?" Tricia asked in a snarky tone while J.D. raised his eyebrows.

"Don't matter, since I'm signing your pay checks." J.D. replied. "Now, move your tight little ass. I don't want to run out." J.D. said before disappearing back into his office.

Tricia and Rodney glanced at each other, rolling their eyes as she grabbed her keys. "I'll be back soon." Tricia said to Rodney who shrugged and went back to texting his girlfriend, Sheila. Sighing, Tricia hopped into her car and began the drive. It wasn't exactly a long drive, but it was annoying since he never ran out since the only customers they got were the occasional teens on their eighteenth birthdays getting tats they'd regret someday to feel like they were free from their parents and the occasional biker, never having enough customers to run out of ink. And while the storage area might not be "far away" it was down a bumpy, abandoned road in the middle of nowhere to a large storage facility (the only one in Charming) called Uncle Sam's Storage (a stupid name, Tricia knew). To top it off, her car always sounded like it would give out at any moment and it was owned by a fifty year old perv named Samuel Truman who always tried to feel Tricia up when she went.

As her and her old clunker car drove down the bumpy road when suddenly she noticed smoke coming from the hood as the car slowly came to a stop. Cursing, Tricia got out of the car and walked to the front, opening the hood but letting it fall shut, coughing as the smoke flew into her face. "Shit!" She cursed, unsure of whether she should get back into the car and try to get to the storage facility or call a tow truck. Pausing with indecision, Tricia stared at the car before sighing and pulling out her cell to call the nearest garage.

"Hello, Teller-Morrow Auto Repair." The woman on the other line said in a bored tone of voice.

"Um…yeah, hi, I need to get my car towed." Tricia said sounding defeated.

"Where are you?" The woman asked. "Okay, someone will be out there to pick you up shortly." She said after Tricia told her before hanging up. Sighing, Tricia grabbed her bag out of the car and sat down on the ground, closing her eyes. She seriously needed a new ride as opposed to the ancient Cadaillac, which had been her only inheritance from her deceased grandfather.

Sitting on the ground, Tricia grabbed a black stencil and her drawing pad out of her bag and began a tattoo sketch that exuded her mood. Only ten minutes later, a tow truck pulled up behind her and two guys hopped out of the truck. One guy looked around twenty one with pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes who looked tiny and lanky next to the tall, burly lumber-jack looking guy beside him. He wore a black beanie and had a bushy beard and mustache. "You need a tow?" The bigger guy asked.

"Yeah," Tricia said irritably. "Stupid car started smoking and just broke down." She said, getting to her feet and kicking the wheel. "I knew that I should have invested in something made this century."

"It _is_ pretty old." The smaller guy commented.

"Enlighting." Tricia rolled her eyes watching as the bigger guy opened the hood and glanced around inside. "Is it fixable?" Tricia asked.

"Dunno." The burly guy said. "We'll have to take a closer look back at the garage. But if I had to guess, I'd say it might be pretty pricey. Looks like the whole engine might have blown. Unsurprising since your car's so-"

"Unreliable? Stupid? Bitchy?" Tricia offered.

"Ancient," the small guy said. The burly guy nodded. "Need a ride?" He offered Tricia who nodded.

"Thanks," she said. "I'm Tricia, by the way."

"I'm Opie," the burly guy said. "This is the prospect."

"He doesn't have a name?" She inquired with genuine curiosity.

The prospect opened his mouth to respond when Opie shook his head. "Nope."

Tricia nodded. "Okay then," she said, glancing back at the dejected prospect hooking up her car. Seeing that Tricia was looking at him he mouthed 'Miles'. Grinning, she shrugged and nodded before hopping into the tow truck with Opie.

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><p><strong>Love Opie. Anyway, there's your chapter two Happy will definitely be in the next one, and I might change the POV from 3rd person to Tricia's point of view because I keep starting to write in her POV and then have to go back and change it. Hope you like it. Thanks.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews and constructive criticism. Anyway, here's chapter three and I hope you enjoy it because I'm typing it at three in the morning and have no energy to actually re-read it. *shrugs* Oh and the disclaimer: we all know none of the characters are mine. :) Good morning**

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><p><span>Chapter Three<span>

"Happy!" Gemma's voice called from the office as he walked by, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around to face the club president's old lady, waiting. "Opie and the prospect are bringing in a tow. You have time to look at it?" Gemma asked, walking past him and into her office.

"Sure," Happy replied, knowing that it wasn't really a question. "They almost here?" He inquired.

Gemma looked up from the paper work in her hands. "How the hell would I know that?" Gemma retorted while Happy chose not to respond, walking out of the office and into the garage where Chibs and Bobby were working surprisingly diligently on a BMW that no doubt belonged to Oswald. Jax stood by the door, smoking. Piney was listening to a long-winded explanation from Juice on how to fix his computer. Happy shook his head, knowing that he'd lost Piney a while ago. After all, when Juice got into conversations about anything tech, he quickly lost anybody who was listening.

Looking around, Happy raised his eyebrows, stopping besides Chibs and Bobby. "Where did Kozik and Tig go?" He asked, looking around for his brother. Chibs and Bobby shared a look before shaking their heads in unison.

"They need to get that shit together." Jax commented, walking back into the garage.

"Tig needs to get his head out of his arse and let Kozik patch over." Chibs said.

"Yeah, we definitely need more people, especially people like Koz." Jax commented.

"Tig's too damn stubborn. He needs to move on. It was just a damn dog." Bobby commented, shaking his head.

Happy rolled his eyes. "Why are they fighting over a fucking dog?"

"Because she was mine." Tig said, walking through the garage and into the office, slamming the door behind him. Kozik entered a moment later. "He needs to get over it. We both loved her but-" Kozik began when Happy cut him off.

"It was just a dog." Happy supplied.

Kozik shook his head. "But she's gone now and it was a long time ago."

"And it was just dog." Chibs inserted while Kozik shook his head and leaned over the car to see what Chibs and Bobby were working on.

"Oswald's car?" Jax asked while Chibs and Bobby nodded.

"What did he _do_ to it?" Kozik asked, staring at the inside of the car.

"Irreparable damage." Happy commented while Chibs and Bobby gave him scathing looks. "You can't fix that. The engine's been fried." He said as the tow truck pulled in, beginning to back an ancient Cadillac into the garage.

"What is that thing?" Chibs asked, his eyes on the car.

"Stolen museum artifact?" Juice suggested.

"A road hazard?" Jax said.

"A car that should have died a long time ago." Kozik said, shaking his head. "Someone put it out of its misery."

As the tow truck halted, Happy walked over to help detach it from the truck while Jax whistled, shaking his head, but walked over to help him out. The doors opened and Opie and the prospect slipped out of the truck and walked over. "What is this?" Happy asked, indicating to the car.

"A piece of crap Cadaillac that my grandpa left me." A feminine voice answered for Opie, and Happy focused behind the burly man at the woman standing behind him. She was about 5'6" with long brownish hair, ice blue eyes, and a killer body of long legs, lush curves, and ample breasts. Crossing her arms across her chest, she glared at the car like it deserved nothing less than to spontaneously combust. "It's also the only transportation I've got. So…is it fixable?" She asked, stepping past Opie and looking up at Happy with hope in her eyes.

"I'll take a look." Happy said to the woman who pursed her lips and nodded, looking back at the car accusingly. "Looking at the car like that, ain't gonna help. It's old."

"So are my grandparents and they're completely reliable." She snapped at Happy who just looked at her mutely. For a moment, she stared him, seeming deep in thought before rubbing her hand on the back of her neck. "Okay, they're _almost_ completely reliable, but I fully blame that on the Alzheimer's." The woman said, shrugging her shoulders. "This _thing _has no excuse."

"How can you just be so…dismissive about your grandparent's having Alzheimer's?" Opie asked, making Happy pause and look up at the man. He understood where Opie was coming from with the question since she'd said it with such a cavalier attitude as if it didn't bother her in the slightest. However, Happy could see that the question had come across in a way that she definitely didn't seem to like.

"They've had Alzheimer's for ten years. It's not going away. It's only getting worse. I've had to live with it a long time. _That's _how I can be so _dismissive_. Yes, it's horrible. Yes, I hate going to visit to people who are slowly losing recollection of who they are, but it I dwelled on every horrible thing in my life, I'd be a seriously depressed bitch on suicide watch in a mental hospital. So _yes_, I'm dismissive. Because sometimes you just have to pick and choose your battles, and I may as well give up on the un-win-able battle." The woman snapped at Opie without even seeming to pause to take a breath. When she was done, she looked around the silent garage to see everyone staring at her before sighing. "I'm just saying."

"That's so fucked up." Jax said to her while she shrugged but nodded.

The woman laughed humorlessly and looked at Jax. "Says the guy in a notorious motorcycle gang with more fucked up rumors than a slutty, cross-dressing high schooler."

"Come on darlin', there's no need to be mean." Jax said, smiling at her while she rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I do." She replied. "But I'm just letting _you _know that with all the rumors flying around this town about you, it's kind of like the pot calling the kettle black."

Clay walked into the garage just then, looking around at everyone. "Doesn't anybody fucking work?" He asked, making everybody turn back to their work. Jax nodded to the woman who waved goodbye while Miles and Opie scrambled back to the truck. "Where's the other prospect?" Clay asked, looking around for Phil.

Happy looked up. "Cleaning the clubhouse." He said while all the other guys sniggered. Cleaning the clubhouse was never fun, it was a scary task that brought you up close and personal with the lifestyle of the club ranging from unidentifiable stains to weird funky shit sticking to the walls. That's why it was the _prospect's _job to clean the clubhouse after a party. Clay let a small smile slip onto his face before nodding.

"Try to get some work done. Stop gossiping like a bunch of pussies." Clay said to them while the guys rolled their eyes and the woman hid a smile. Clay walked into the office to see Gemma.

Sighing, Happy stood up, wiping his grease-stained hands on a clothes sitting next to him and glanced at the woman. Taking a deep breath, she straightened and looked at him. "Oh shit, it's not good is it?"

Happy shook his head. "There is so much wrong with this piece of shit, I don't even know where to begin. A lot of shit needs to be replaced, the engine's almost blown, and the motor looks like it could die any second." Happy told the woman.

"You can fix that, right?" The woman asked hopefully.

"Maybe." Happy said.

"Maybe?" She repeated.

"Look, this car is so old that I don't even know if all the parts you need are still being made. Plus, it's in horrible shape." Happy commented.

The woman shrugged. "I'm not exactly a car person." She told him before looking back at Happy. "Give it to me, how long of a life expectancy are we expecting here?"

"A month, maybe two, if you're lucky. I'm surprised it lasted this long." Happy told the woman who grimaced.

"What the hell do you think I should do about it?" The woman asked. Happy hesitated, looking at her face to see that she honestly seemed to want an answer.

"It'll cost you more on repair and upkeep than buying a new car." Happy said.

"Shit," she said, shaking her head. "Can you make it live for another few days without incident?"

Happy looked down at the car uncertainly before looking back at the woman in front of him. "I can try."

"Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me." She said, looking around before glancing at Happy. "Where's the office?" She inquired, and Happy pointed to the door towards the back. "Thanks." She said, moving past him and through the door into the office. Happy watched her walk into the office, shaking his head as she went by. The girl was strange, he'd give her that with a quirky charm that you couldn't truly find in many people. However, the one thing Happy noticed was the fierce, protective side of her lurking just beneath the surface. The side of her that he knew was hiding everything that she didn't want the world to see was undoubtedly the most dangerous part of the woman.

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><p><strong>There's your chapter. I have no idea where the story's going at this point. So, if you have any ideas you can just tell me before I make any major plot decisions. Love hearing it. Merci. (I'm a french student. Trying to keep it fresh for next year.) Adios!<strong>


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